June 24th, 2017

Last year two friends and I played through Metroid Prime: Federation Force together. Overall, we invested about 80 hours into the game each, completing both the main campaign and Blast Ball on both difficulties and with all medals and unlocks. Needless to say, we enjoyed the game very much and being the savvy folk we are, we wanted to dig deeper. So over the past few months the three of us have been trading notes and partaking in a series of podcast discussions to better understand Federation Force‘s cooperative take on the Metroid Prime template. As you may have noticed from my screen name, I’m particularly fond of the Prime games. The original Metroid Prime changed my perception of the video game medium and remains a personal favourite. So I’m pleased to finally share this project with you.

Each podcast runs for about an hour in length, with hosting duties taken by yours truly. We generally start out by introducing the particular design element we wish to discuss, teasing our its nuances, and then working our way towards the higher order questions. The topics tend to follow in a sequence, so it’s probably best to start with the first podcast. However, the final podcast (a standalone recording on Blast Ball) includes our conclusion on Federation Force and isn’t a bad taster either. Unfortunately, our recording process for the first two podcasts meant that some of the audio wasn’t as clear as we would have liked. By the third episode though, everything is cleared up.

We discuss the player’s abilities and how they’re tuned to create clean gameplay and accentuate the spatial and timing dynamics. Understanding the role of space and time in Federation Force is essential for understanding the core moving/shooting gameplay.

For the next three podcasts, we analyse our favourite missions starting with my pick, Incursion. This podcast focuses on the spatial arrangement of each room in conjunction with the nuances of the particular enemy sets.

Adrian’s favourite level, Insurrection, divides the crew into mech and mech-less players. We discuss how Next Level Games were apply to explore this gameplay concept through the differentiated catacombs of Bion.

In our final podcast we dissect the sports side-game, Blast Ball and conclude by discussing Federation Force‘s place in the Metroid Prime series (sans Pinball).

I feel like we were able to have so many deep and constructive discussions because we really listened to each other, kept the conversation grounded, and chewed through our ideas collaboratively. If you’ve enjoyed this podcast, I’ve include links to the other podcasts which I’ve recorded with Adrian and Greg as part of the VG Commune on the About page.

On a final note, I can’t help but feel that our completion of this project was quite timely. At E3 Nintendo announced the development of Metroid Prime 4. However, they didn’t reveal the studio developing the game. Personally, I suspect that Next Level Games (the developers of FF) are at the helm of Metroid Prime 4 (most likely partnering with Nintendo Japan and possibly with some oversight from Retro). My reasons for are as follows:

Kensuke Tanabe is overseeing the project and was also the producer of Federation Force, among other Western-developed Nintendo titles.

Retro aren’t developing the title (given the rumours of bad blood between Tanabe and Retro)

Next Level have experience working on a Prime game (and most certainly the design chops to tackle a “mainline” Metroid game) .

So, in saying all this, I think the podcasts provide a useful lens for considering how Next Level may develop Metroid Prime 4, if they are indeed working on this project. A tasty proposition in my books.

April 9th, 2017

In finalising copy for the (eventual) release of the Adventures in Games Analysis bookazine, I decided to roll several articles on racing games into the one essay. Four months of semi-regular writing later, the essay has evolved into a side project of its own. I’m very happy with how the copy is shaping up and plan on releasing it as a separate piece of writing at some point in the future. The following three sets of comments were clipped from my original notes and I thought it appropriate to share them here.

Wave Race 64

The faster a jet-ski travels, the easier the vehicle is to steer. And so jet-skis invert the high-speed-less-control dynamic we associate with (car) racing. I found that my pre-existing knowledge worked against me in this regard. When thought of in this light, we can see how weaving between the buoys (which increases the player’s speed meter) supports the player in winning races (by giving them greater craft control).

The waves look naturalistic, but follow predetermined patterns. The variable element isn’t so much the behaviour of the waves, but the behaviour of the players. Each time the player attempts a race, their performance—i.e. their synchronisation with the wave cycles—varies. Thus creating the impression of dynamic wave behaviour.

The wave forces accentuate the dimensionality of the 3D space by distorting the ground beneath the player and displacing the craft’s position.

Nintendo pursue realism through gameplay rather than realism through visual presentation. From this perspective, realism functions as a launching pad for expanding gameplay and making play more intuitive (i.e. based on familiar, real-world experiences). The water physics, for example, expand the potential variation within the race scenario (choppy water, calm water, etc.) and can be easily read through their visual appearance. Other neat examples of realism include the gradual clearing of fog in Drake Lake and the darkening of the screen and glare on the final turn of Sunset Bay.

I like how Nintendo leveraged various types of game elements to create track themes. For example, Port Blue simulates an industrial port through its choppy water, the crates in the water; narrow, man-made channels; ramps which function as barges; and docked ships which outline the race track.

With the zoomed-in view, the player character creates a blindspot right in the middle of the screen.

Wipeout HD

I think it would be awesome if the reverse “black” tracks were connected to their regular “white” counterparts. That is, a mode where the player reaches the end of a white track and then spins their craft around (as in Eliminator mode) and does a lap of the black track. As in Wario Land 4, the player would have to actively reevaluate their working memory of the stage.

The ship names and designs are symbolic of the nations they represent and the technologies available to them. Form fits function doubles as a good way to communicate narrative. You know, as opposed to, say, reading the actual Wipeout backstory.

Health plays a big role in the player’s decision-making process. For example, whether they should absorb or use a weapon, enter a fray or steer clear, and attempt a barrel roll or play it safe. I wish the game would have rival craft flash red when they are low on health, as this information would facilitate more assertive weapon use.

MotorStorm Pacific Rift

The explanations of each game type, the controls, and the boost meter appear once and then never come back. Pacific Rift is a straightforward game, but I wasn’t able to get all the controls down in the first race.

Given the realistic physics and varied terrain, even small bumps can send some vehicles spiralling through the air. Yet such details only come into view at the last second as your vehicle often obscures the area directly in front of them. When you switch to a first-person viewpoint the other vehicles hide outside of your horse-like vision. It’s a lose-lose situation.

Pacific Rift fails to find the right balances between functionality and naturalism. The tracks are a little too organic-looking, making it difficult to read the boundaries of the level, the racing line, and the branching paths.

I’m currently taking a break from writing the racing game essay, so expect to see more material up on the blog.

January 6th, 2017

Last year I wrote a chapter called ‘Cracking the Resident Evil Puzzle Box’ for the just-released edited book, Level Design: Processes and Experiences. Around the time I was invited to write the chapter I was interested in researching the knowledge game which underpins Metroidvania-esque exploration.

On a base level, the role of memory and level design is relatively easy to understand. As the player moves through a level, they encode chunks of the level design into memory. With each line of movement across the map, the player adds another row of bricks to their mental reconstruction. Yet games such as classic Resident Evil, Metroid, and the post-SOTN Castlevanias have the player pass through the majority of rooms multiple times and the level design change over time (with new enemies, routes, or player access). And so these games task the player with not simply encoding and withdrawing information from their memory banks, but doing so while also reorganising the schema and editing the information within. I knew that there was an artistry to way these games scaffolded and tested the player’s ability to encode, organise, edit, and withdraw information, but with so many other projects to finish I lacked the impetus to do a thorough analysis. The chapter submission therefore seemed like the perfect excuse to dive deep.

Each yellow bubble represents a comment

I sat down with Resident Evil: Code Veronica (the most recent Resident Evil game I had completed) and spent about three weeks full-time playing through the game, mapping out each instance of movement across the map (from each key to lock), and noting the implications for the player’s mental model. I ended up with 64 pdf files which each look something like the image above (Evil Resource is an incredible resource for Resident Evil maps by the way). The details were staggering, but fortunately everything coalesced around several distinct trends.

In brief, I found that each chapter of Code Veronica‘s gameplay had a different function within the knowledge game and built on what had come before it (tutorial, developing a mental model, testing the mental model, overhauling the mental model, etc.). The Prison area acts as a tutorial and focuses on a 4-step lock which sees the player doubleback through a handful of rooms. As Claire explores more of Rockfort Island the player is given access to large portions of the game world and the single thread of progression unravels into a system of branching paths. During this time the player can develop and refine their mental model in a freer environment. Claire’s brief excursion to Antarctica pauses the first half of the knowledge game before Chris Redfield arrives at a partly destroyed Rockfort and the player’s pre-existing knowledge of the island is used against them. The final chapter in Antarctica combines the earlier themes together, but stumbles due to the mish mash of environments which are different to mentally organise and logically fit together.

The chapter also covers progression, player choice, environmental story telling, and the components of survival gameplay.

It’s probably the most dense and challenging thing I have ever written. I found it difficult to give grounding and coherence to what is a highly detail-focused but also abstract topic. In any case, I found what I was looking for, so I can’t really complain…but I will encourage you to check out Level Design: Processes and Experiences. The line-up of contributors and range of topics covered is excellent. If this post has tempted you to read my chapter, then I would suggest playing through Code Veronica and reading as you go. The book is available on Amazon or through CRC Press in physical and digital versions.